Life After Death
by racle
Summary: Harry and Hermione are both killed in the final duel with Voldemort, but they are not gone forever. They return as ghosts and gradually manage to live almost normal lives with their still living friends on Earth. The journey of life does not end at death.


Chapter 1

The final battle of the Second War was at hand. Harry Potter's squad had finally cornered Voldemort in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

Voldemort leaned casually against the smooth stone wall of a large room whose door had long since worn out. His wand was in his hand but not pointed at anyone; he was outnumbered.

Harry stepped forward, brandishing his useless phoenix-feather-cored wand, which could not be used against Voldemort. Behind him, only three of the D.A. members he had taken here were still with him. Each with their own wand, Neville, Hermione, and Ginny stood ready.

"Ah, the illustrious Harry Potter," Voldemort said, his voice echoing dramatically through the chamber, "come all this way on the basis of a false prophecy! I must say, though, your skills in penetrating wards and evading traps are impressive. I say that to all four of you."

"False prophecy?" Neville asked warily.

"Did you not realize that this prophecy truly predicts _my_ victory?" Voldemort sneered, "Think of the words. '_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…'_ That is the proof that you—"

"How do you know what the prophecy says?" Harry demanded, shocked. They had, after all, prevented Voldemort from learning of the prophecy when they fought in the Department of Mysteries.

"I read it off Ginevra's mind. Her skills in Occlumency are still a bit deficient," Voldemort replied, pointing to Ginny. "Anyway," he continued, "according to the prophecy, you or Neville should have power that I do not know. But this I also read from her mind—so I do know the power. You have the power of love, and that's why you brought Ginny—as the holder of that power. Unfortunately, I now know your 'power that the Dark Lord knows not'.

"Consider this also: 'The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…' Dumbledore claims that I somehow marked Harry as my equal by giving him the lightning scar. Harry, know that that is not the case. I attacked you because I thought you might someday become a threat to me. As it turns out, you are not.

"Anyone whom I do not consider to be equal to myself, cannot defeat me. The prophecy places in MY hands who can and cannot defeat me! I consider none of you equal—so none of you will fit the prophecy! Your only hope is to convince me that you are equal to me, and I choose not to be convinced!" Voldemort started to cackle evilly.

"Tom, you're missing something," Hermione said confidently.

"What would that be, Hermione?" Voldemort sneered.

"The prophecy cannot be true. Think: 'and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…' So the prophecy said that you cannot be alive if Harry is alive at the time, and Harry shouldn't be able to live as long as you're alive. Well, look! You and Harry are both alive at this very moment! So the prophecy has been contradicted, if you take it as literally as you do."

"Fine. We will settle the matter with a contest of dueling skills! Crucio!" They hadn't noticed Voldemort's wand, which he was holding low, and happened to be pointed at an unlucky Neville, who instantly dropped to the ground, writhing in pain.

"Stupefy!" "Impedimentia!" "Incarcerous!" The three students shouted all at once, but their spells struck the wall. Voldemort had vanished!

As they turned around, Voldemort's voice sounded "Avada kedavra!" Hermione collapsed in a heap.

Voldemort stepped back, pointing his wand at Harry, then Ginny alternately. "Harry, in case you have not noticed," Voldemort hissed politely, "I am using Mr. Goyle's wand, not my own, so I can, in fact, duel you!"

"Avada kedavra!" Harry shouted, but Voldemort once again had apparated behind him. He heard a "Crucio!" behind him—turned, knowing it was too late—but only saw a flash of red before his face, which he soon realized was Ginny's hair. She took the curse and fell at Harry's feet, convulsing in pain.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," Voldemort hissed, "Ginny, why'd you step in front of him?" He again pointed his wand at Harry and shouted "Crucio!"

As Harry braced himself for the pain, the curse struck Harry square in the chest and bounced off unexpectedly. Voldemort screamed as the curse struck him and soon joined Neville and Ginny on the floor.

Harry stepped up to Voldemort's prostrate form, remembering the incantation Hermione had found in the library. Placing one hand on Voldemort's chest, he muttered the spell. In a flash, both bodies were vaporized.

The battle had been won. However, the Boy who Lived was now (as the Daily Prophet would write the next day) the boy who died.

Harry awoke unable to tell where he was. He was surrounded by a blinding white. He looked around, and saw no one.

"Hellooooo!" he called loudly into the empty space, "Is anyone there?"

"Harry, is that you?" replied another voice that he knew was Hermione's. But he could see no one.

"Hermione, where are you?" he asked.

"I don't know. I can't see anyone here!" responded her voice.

"I can tell you where you are!" a voice suddenly boomed, echoing despite the lack of any walls to echo from.

"Who are you?" asked both Harry and Hermione at the same time.

"I am Merlin, the wizard archangel! I am in charge of the wizard afterlife. Both of you died two weeks ago."

The memory of the final duel flooded back into Harry's mind as he heard "dead" pronounced.

"As wizards, you have a choice of afterlife," Merlin's voice said, "you can choose to become a Ghost, a Dream Walker, or a Dementor. Each form has its advantages and disadvantages."

"Wait a minute," Harry said, "After we die, we come back as Dementors?"

"You can, if you wish," Merlin replied, "Some people, especially dark wizards, choose that form to encase their soul. The advantage of being a Dementor is that you can continue to have a corporeal presence in the mortal world. As a Dementor, you will possess a pair of hands that can reach out and touch people who are still living. You also are able to feed on positive emotions…"

"I don't think I'm going to be one of those," Harry said immediately.

"No, let's hear him out," Hermione insisted, "Maybe there's something about Dementors that we don't know yet."

"Okay," Merlin continued, "As I was saying, Dementors can feed on other people's positive emotions and souls. After a Dementor's Kiss, the soul will stay inside you until the body dies, after which that soul will be here, making the same choice you are now. Dementors also have automatic telepathic contact with other Dementors; you can't talk to humans, but you can communicate with fellow Dementors—and you can write with your hand, if you need to communicate with mortals. But there are disadvantages to being a Dementor. The first and foremost is that living people won't want to be around you, because they will feel depressed if they come close to you. When you feed on their positive emotions, you'll also make living people remember their worst memories. The other thing is that you won't be able to cast spells, because you can't speak the incantations out loud. The upshot of that is that you can't be hurt by any spell except the Patronus charm.

"If that doesn't appeal to you, you can also be a Dream Walker. Most wizards choose this form after they die. You will exist only in the dreams of sleeping, living people, but within those dreams you will be fully corporeal and have all the abilities you did when you were alive. The downside is that you can't directly communicate with Dementors or Ghosts. Of course you could enter someone's dream and tell that person to relay a message to a Dementor or a Ghost when he wakes up, though. You will have the ability to enter and exit any person's dream at will, and have full control over the setting of that person's dream, whether you want that person to dream of being in a forest, or dream of being in a specific location—it's all up to you.

"The last option is a Ghost. In this form, you will have a non-corporeal image in the mortal world. You can see, hear, and communicate with living people, but you won't be able to touch anything in the living world. You'll also be able to fly. However, you can't use a wand, since you can't touch anything, so your magic ability will be severely restricted. Wandless magic is possible, but you won't be as powerful as you were when alive. You will still, however, be vulnerable to transfiguration spells and appearance hexes, although not to Unforgivable Curses or most charms. You will also not be able to touch fellow Ghosts.

"Remember, once you choose what form to resurrect in, you will remain in that form for thousands of years. Let me know when you decide and I will have you rendered in the desired form. Choose carefully!"

Harry couldn't make up his mind.

"Hermione, what do you think?" he called into the whiteness.

"I think we should both pick the same form, whatever we do," she called back. "Which one should we pick?"

"I don't know."

"I was inclined towards a ghost. We would have a bit more freedom of movement, and people wouldn't dismiss us as merely dreams when they woke up. I'd also like to learn some wandless magic. Besides, Myrtle must be getting lonely in that bathroom…"

"Okay…"

"I'm waiting!" Merlin's voice echoed again.

"A ghost would be fine," Harry announced.

"Both of you wish to become ghosts?" Merlin asked.

"Yes."

"All right, then." A loud sound that sounded like the snapping of fingers echoed in the whiteness. Then, suddenly, Harry found himself in a large stone room. He recognized it as the place where he had died while killing Voldemort. He tried to move, but could not. He looked up and saw Hermione in front of him, now with bushy gray hair and eyes instead of the original brown he remembered. He watched her float around the room.

"Uh…how do you move?" Harry asked, somewhat embarrassed; fortunately, the color did not show on his cheeks, which remained a transparent shade of gray.

"Concentrate on your destination and imagine floating to it," she responded. He tried it, and soon was able to move.

"Let's get up to the surface," Harry suggested, starting to hover down the corridor, back the way he had come when he had chased Voldemort.

"There's a quicker way!" Hermione reminded him, "We can pass through solid objects. We could take a shortcut through the earth."

"Oh, right." Harry tried floating up into the ceiling and, after a few seconds staring at solid stone before his eyes, suddenly found himself in another corridor, certainly a higher level of the dungeon. Within a few minutes he was in the ground floor of Malfoy Manor, his head sticking out of the wooden floor. Hermione's head popped out of the floor next to him. They looked around and no one was there.

"Where should we go first?" Hermione asked.

"Let's visit Ron, then find the others," Harry suggested.

"Should we Apparate there?"

"Long distance Apparating isn't very reliable, remember?"

"Well, we're not corporeal, so there's no risk of splinching, for us."

They disappeared from Malfoy Manor, silently reappearing in the living room of the Burrow. "We can Apparate silently now, too," Hermione commented.

Just then, Ron came down the stairs.

"Harry! Hermione! You're back!" He ran forward with arms outstretched, ignoring their colorlessness and the fact that they were ghosts. He embraced the transparent Hermione, only to fall through her, his head going through hers as if there was nothing there, and he landed painfully face-down on the floor. Harry and Hermione were unable to control their laughter.

"This is going to take some getting used to," Hermione said, still laughing at Ron, whose face was now redder than his hair.


End file.
